A Lifetime's Worth
by Ego And Psyche
Summary: Some dreams take a lifetime to come true. Some lives are too short to dream. (Warning: heavily implied to be set during the 2011 Japan earthquake. Oh, and everyone dies. Enjoy.)


_A Lifetime's Worth_

oOo

**I apologize for nothing**

**Except doing what I once asked a friend not to do**

oOo

_I wonder..._

He's asleep, but he still struggles to breathe against you in short spurts that, to your considerable but somehow vague dismay, are beginning to sound steadily more winded. You try, yet again, to raise a hand to his face and brush away some of the hair obscuring his eyes. Yet again, you cannot. Your hands have lost all sensation now.

_...I wonder if anyone actually expects to die like this?_

Some of you is still spinning with bewilderment, even after hours; trapped in a collapsing apartment amongst falling debris, trying to shake off the last bits of exhaustion after having foregone sleep for days; caged in the few moments of terror that have, quite literally, shattered your world beyond repair.

And yet, another part of you is already sleeping just as deeply as he is...

_He's not dead..._

You try to speak, but the stabbing burn in your chest dissuades you at first; how many ribs did you break? Have you punctured a lung?

"Hiro-san", you manage at last, among gasps of pain that you try to bite down for his sake. "Hiro-san." _Please wake up? Even if your pain returns to you, it's just going to be a while more... Just one more hour, I think, and then we can sleep together..._

"Hiro-san, I'm getting... I'm getting lonely without you..."

The response is immediate. "I'm right here, you moron. I'm not even asleep."

"You're not...?" _Why haven't you been sleeping? _"Is the pain..."

"Nowaki."

Your only reply is a helpless noise of frustration as your own pain threatens to rise above tolerable levels again. _I'm sorry it's hard for me to speak..._

"I can't sleep like this. I know have the ability to sleep just about anywhere, but... this is really pushing it, don't you think?" You should be horrified at how heartbreakingly light his voice is, but in truth, it comforts you a little.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't be."

"Hiro-san, I..." _Don't go to sleep... I know you said you wouldn't, but... don't go to sleep... _"Please stay with me, alright...?"

"I will", he says, and his voice is gentle. You want to ask him about his injuries. And, at the same time, you have no desire to know exactly what hurts him and how much when you are so incapable of doing anything about it.

A few minutes of silence well between the two of you, punctuated by shallow, almost vocal breaths.

"Nowaki", he murmurs presently, "if you can move your hands at all..."

The sharp pain in your chest now feels more like regret than a punctured lung. "I can't, Hiro-san... I've been trying, I..." _I'm sorry, I'm sorry..._

"Then be quiet."

You nod miserably.

"You keep saying we should talk more often..." Why must he sound so serene, so completely unperturbed? Why is his breathing the only indication that he is in any sort of pain at all? _And look at me, little better than a scared child... A child who's only just discovered that death __does not knock before it enters._

"This is as good a time as any for us to talk, don't you think? If you'd like, I can ask you questions and you can reply with yes or no..."

"Yes", you whisper.

"You know, Nowaki... It's been a pleasure to walk this far with you." Try as you might—for what else have you been doing all your life?—you detect nothing in his voice but absolute calmness.

"...that's..." _What can I say to you, Hiro-san?_ "...not a question."

"Was it worth it for you? Was this worth it all? A broken, crabby old man..."

"Hiro-san", you try to protest, and it dawns on you all at once. _Ah, he's... he's not actually calm at all, he..._

"I tried not to get in the way of your dreams, but I can't imagine that I didn't distract you from achieving them earlier somehow... All the time you gave up for..."

"Hiro-san, please... stop..." _He's just as frightened as I am._

_All this time, and you still feel the need to shelter me from your pain... _

"Nowaki..."

_Am I still just a seventeen-year-old boy to you?_

"It's not fair", you say faintly, ignoring the pain that flares up in your gut. "This is it, then, the end for us, for all that we dreamed of together—" _Your dreams and my dreams and our dreams of a future where dreams would come true... And it all comes down to this? To two dying men buried in the ruins of their own apartment amongst a broken city?_

_My love and your longing, and our shared misunderstandings..._

_You were about to become a professor at last..._

Is that a hand you feel moving beside you?

"What wretched souls we are, Hiro-san... We try so hard, and... We never get where we want to be... We never get what we want..."

Something clammy closes over your own limp hand; the feeling takes a while to travel to your cloudy brain, and when it does, all you receive is a distant impression of something rare and precious and wonderful.

Your thoughts rage on.

And he holds your hand—which must be cold now, for the first time—and reminds you, "But we've always had what we need."

"I suppose so", you mumble, the jabs of your chest catching up to you and fueling a new wave of nausea. "Hiro-san, I don't suppose... I'll get a chance..." Your torso seems to be on fire, spreading its sickly pain to your legs and what's left of your arms; you fight for breath and try again. "In case I can't—say this again—"

_I have to, I have to get this out..._

He stirs against you. "I love you too. You needn't say it."

Your eyes have begun to sting again too, but this has nothing to do with your injuries. _I can't say it back, not yet... I'll have to wait a few minutes..._

"Consider it payback for all the times you said it to me and I didn't respond like I should have", he says gruffly; now there is no mistaking the way his voice shakes, and you are just slightly thankful. "Though if I'd known it was going to end like this, I... I'd have said it more often..."

_No, you said it enough... Hiro-san..._

"I know", he mutters, cutting into your mental apology. "We've been together long enough. I know what you're thinking. Drop it."

And you do.

_Ah, look... the sun is rising._

"It's going to be over soon, Nowaki..."

"Yes..." _We're going to sleep..._ "Hiro-san... my answer..."

"Don't speak if you can't, idiot." Is his grip on your deadened hand tightening? ...Is that a tear? "Stop talking. I know it hurts like the devil."

You shake your head with as much force as you can muster. "Yes... my answer. Yes." _This you need to know._

_Yes, it's been worth it all._

_Being with you has been worth everything._

Your eyes have long been shut and for a moment, you wonder what he's trying to do, why you can feel him moving as though to stand on legs that were crushed under concrete boulders hours ago. Then you realize that he's shaking.

_Don't cry... I don't want you to cry..._

_I fell in love with those very tears, but now they..._

"Fading", you say feebly, and it's true.

"Nowaki..." Even through his sobs, he sounds so composed; it would sting if you were not so tired all of a sudden. "Nowaki, please stay with me... I'll be lonely without you..."

_But I'll always stay with you. We'll always have what we need._

"I'm here", you whisper as the last sensations of his hand in yours leave you. "Oyasuminasai..."

Always the hope of leaving for a place where dreams came true. _Always the way you look at me. Always you._

_Hiro-san._


End file.
